Jake and Jamin Orrall are mere twentysomethings, but these Nashville brothers – linchpins of the city's garage rock scene – are already on to their seventh album. Admittedly, some of the earlier ones were strictly limited runs, so this – their first on a major – is their first push at winning a large audience. What you get with a guitar-and-drums duo tends not to be unnecessarily complex music, and so it is here – the guitars are set to buzz, the drums bang, and the odd squiggle of synthesiser offers a dab of colour. It's a 90s powerpop album – Weezer without the self-analysis – in all but name. But, like even the best Weezer records, it can get a bit samey as the next bludgeoning riff hoves into view. And like the worst Weezer records, it sounds as if the lyrics were tossed off in five minutes, with rhyme schemes Simon Cowell might dismiss as a bit obvious. Catch them live, where they burn and fizz – and the lyrics are indecipherable.